


The hornets' nest

by andjin



Category: K-pop, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Romance, Angst and Tragedy, Bottom Kim Seokjin | Jin, Boys In Love, Crying, Death, Depression, Dom Kim Namjoon | RM, Eventual Smut, Falling In Love, Fanfiction, Friendship/Love, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes, Love at First Sight, M/M, Men Crying, Mentions of Cancer, Non-Graphic Smut, Sad Ending, Sad Kim Namjoon | RM, Sad Kim Seokjin | Jin, Sub Kim Seokjin | Jin, Suicide, Sweet Kim Namjoon | RM, Sweet Kim Seokjin | Jin, Teen Angst, Teen Romance, Top Kim Namjoon | RM, Trains
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:00:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28382088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andjin/pseuds/andjin
Summary: Seokjin just wished he had more time to listen even more carefully your bewitching words.Instead, Namjoon, a big talker, loved seeing you focused on him.It all happened in three short weeks.
Relationships: Kim Namjoon | RM & Kim Seokjin | Jin, Kim Namjoon | RM/Kim Seokjin | Jin, Kim Namjoon | RM/Kim Seokjin | Jin/Reader





	The hornets' nest

**Author's Note:**

> It's my first job on this platform, it won't be one of the best experiences T-T  
> If you have any recommendations, please do not hesitate to write them on the comments.  
> This story is a translation of my original Italian version on Wattpad.
> 
> Hope you’ll like it !

The Sunset? Black, with a few layers of gray.

The lawn? Completely gray, characterized by the black pollen and the white petals of the daisies.

I was sitting on a small black towel, the wind wasn't even that strong, it just had the power to lift the corner of the book I was reading, now for the hundredth time.

Its name was particularly mundane, 'Apples', such a simple name, yet with a lot of intrigue and inexplicable arguments, still scientifically unproven today.

It was beautiful how the world was still, after four billion and five hundred and sixty-seven million years, unmasked, still leaving some question marks in various parts of the earth.

I loved the question mark, it was such a nice symbol aesthetically, but full of unknowns within it, asking us questions after questions, making us doubt again.

“But why do you see the black and gray sunset?”

“But, don't you see it too?” I answered.

Always the same questions.

I was born like this, black and white, white and black or gray and black, it depends on the things I'm looking at.

I suffer from a disease from birth, complete congenital achromatopsia.

Summing up? I basically see black, white and a few shades of gray.

It was not easy I must admit, I was wondering the fateful 'why me', who knows what the colors of the lawn, of my clothes, or the simple cover of this damn book are.

Pink, red, green or yellow?

Who knows what color pink is? And what about red?

From the name, pink seems to me the softest and most delicate color there is, I wish I could see it! I would spend hours and hours just looking at that delicate color that is not only found in a few objects, but from what I know, is the most requested by girls.

I found myself immersed in my thoughts, once again, when I finally decided to run away, noting that the sunset now so much mentioned, fleeing too, giving way to his dear and beloved clouds, which as far as I know, reflect perfectly the colors I hate the most.

Not that they are bad, however, the thought of not being able to extend the view except by observing only those three colors throughout my life, particularly saddens me.

I was under a small tree when on my head I felt a drop pass over my forehead, using it as a passage for its small purpose, falling from my nose to the page of my book.

I noticed it immediately and raised my head to understand if it was now only the fruit of my thoughts or the hard and bitter truth.

Why bitter and hard? Simple, I'll have to run with the little black towel on my head, desperately looking for the main road to my small and miserable city center apartment.

I covered myself up over my head, looking for shelter for the book that was now suffering as much as I did from the cold now perceived.

I much preferred to save the book that me, do you know how many trees they uprooted for these pages? Simply too many, and many times used in a bad way.

I had been running for a few minutes now, my shoes were completely soaked in water, probably intent on cursing me from head to toe.

Finally I reached the main road, the little black towel had left me, also soaked, making my poor hair soak with water.

The situation remained funny until my beloved book fell into the only puddle on that cursed street.

And God how much I cursed, hard I admit, I even turned a boy, more or less my age, but with two small details, his dimples and his umbrella.

They have their own why, they just looked so perfect, lined up in the same radius, on both cheeks, characterizing them.

The book was now navigating in the puddle, perhaps also looking for a perfect way out so as not to absorb more water, ruining the letters written with a particular character typed on the computer.

I was completely still, still observing, no longer the dimples of that boy, but the eyes this time, dark for sure, black or brown, I will never know, but one thing is certain, I was able to describe them more and more, also highlighting his clothing, simply by the fact that I found it in front of me, reaching towards me, my book that kept losing drops left and right.

> “Here”

It was the only word he uttered at that moment, he had a very deep voice, suited to the current weather.

He just handed the book to my hands and pulled the umbrella handle towards me, leaving him on the uncovered side. The drops bounced off the umbrella, splashing the poor boy, who immediately passed the sleeve of his jacket to keep seeing something.

I noticed the umbrella after a few seconds, first I took the book and then I made a small bow, typical of our area to express gratitude.

A simple “thank you” came out of my mouth, afterwards sorry to have replied in such an obvious way to a person who was giving me time under his seemingly black umbrella.

“May I know why you didn't bring an umbrella with you?” he said, tilting his head to the right, probably confused.

“I had gone to read, I thought I would not need it” I exclaimed, turning my face towards my hill.

"That knoll" he broke me off.

"I used to go there often too. Unfortunate day today" he said, announcing a small smile on his round face.

"Yeah" I replied, feeling my cheeks on fire, for no apparent reason, letting an embarrassing silence envelop our brief conversation, including even a modicum of curiosity, trying to understand the reason for his trips to that little hill now abandoned to itself and probably only visited by myself.

I caught myself for a second, really realizing the fact that he was seriously getting wet to protect me from the persistent drops.

"Don't get wet" I proposed, bringing the umbrella back to him, making him enter the dome again.

He pushed it away, continuing to get wet.

“No, don't worry, I live exactly one street after this one, keep your umbrella, you have the air of someone who feels quite lost” he said, smiling, highlighting his unique little dimples even more.

“Absolutely not, the umbrella is yours, I don't even know you! Do you trust a stranger so blindly?" I asked, annoyed, but at the same time delighted at last by a kind person.

"Hi! I’m Kim Namjoon, now you know me don't you? Keep the umbrella".

He took my hand, grabbing and squeezing it, and then shaking it, as if it were to simulate a handshake, and then carrying it back into his pockets.

I let myself be duped, without thinking I said my name, realizing that it was just a way to make strangers become acquaintances.

I tried to express another concept when his umbrella was tight in my hands but by now there was no trace of him, leaving only the trail of his scent of honey that had now been part of the environment, dominating any other smell.

Unsuccessfully, the unwelcome umbrella remained in my hands and I walked down the street, always holding tight both the umbrella and my precious book, almost completely destroyed.

My building was located in the center, I hated the city, all that stress, the traffic, people being late, the races, the perennial bad weather.

It wasn't really for me, I'm not the type to run late in the polluted rain. I placed the umbrella on the table, dripping everywhere, even creating a homemade mini puddle.

That Namjoon made it easy, but it wasn't like that for me. My guilt, that severe guilt inside of me, kept jumping in my head. I had to bring this umbrella back, thank him and get out of here faster than light.

Because, the less time you spend with a person, the harder you remember their face.

I was completely soaked, I collapsed on the sofa, dead, tired and full of thoughts constantly influenced by that image of a forced smile under the heavy drops of water.

**Author's Note:**

> My twitter is @/orzoll <3


End file.
